


Take the Days as they Come

by DearOne



Category: Bandom, Music RPF, Panic At The Disco, Young Veins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-18
Updated: 2010-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:52:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearOne/pseuds/DearOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan is pulled tight. Jon's solution: a vacation for two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. not just a prologue

**Author's Note:**

> (1)Fic inspired by this pic of Ryan's favorite vacation moment:  
>   
> [original picture [source](https://twitter.com/#!/theyoungveins/status/10590299349)]  
> (2) Jon's POV (3) Title is a lyric from TYV's "Take a Vacation"

ccc

I watch him.

Ryan paces back and forth. A joint rests between two long fingers. Every now and then it would touch his lips. When his fingers come away, a pink tongue would dart out, wetting a full bottom lip. Long legs keep an even stride as they carry a too thin body from one end of the living room to the other.

A song is in his head. Words are at the tip of his tongue. 

He's just not able to utter them yet. He's completely silent. This has been going on for the past three hours. I should know, my eyes never left his body.

ccc


	2. cell phones for alarm clocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote the first part I did not intend to continue, but because people asked and my lovely muse pushed, the drabble turned into a story. XD
> 
> POV: Ryro

ccc

Hours passed. Haven't checked the time, but I know we missed lunch. Not that we eat lunch regularly at a set hour, our systems are too screwed up for that. We live on our own time as we go from place to place, stopping over, going back, missing hours, gaining hours, forgetting mornings, sleepless nights in the daytime, endless days, passing afternoons, packing, unpacking, moving, moving, never settling. 

We'll be leaving on tour soon. This is a good thing. 

Thinking as a "we" is also a good thing. A wonderful thing, actually.

Jon is sitting on the couch, not moving, not doing much of anything. And he's not doing 'nothing" in an annoying kind of way. He looks rather peaceful, sitting there. 

A song comes to mind.

ccc


	3. moody blue words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the result of reading jon's [tweet](http://twitter.com/iamjonwalker/status/11347021940) about not having a choice in regards to leaving panic.
> 
> Jon's POV

Lyrics tumble and spill out of Ryan's mouth in quick succession. He's hunched on the ground now. His notebook across his lap; a pen moves fluidly over paper. 

This is how one of our songs are created. With Ryan, there is no pattern to how a song is formed. The process is always different. This is his brilliance. It's a beautiful thing. 

He bites his lip as he looks at me. "This song can't be sung in public, not yet anyway." He leaves it at that. 

I know he'll change more than half of the lyrics until it's so twisted that the meaning of the song becomes just out of everyone's reach. This makes the song his.

He taps his pen on the paper. "You want to sing it?" 

I shake my head no.

"I think you should sing it."

"I'll sing another song," I say.

He shrugs his shoulders and stands. He takes two steps and falls against me on the couch.

I feel the urge to explain myself when he looks at me with a blank face and doesn't say anything at all. I say the first thing that comes to mind, of course. "Fuck, Ryan, I'm not Brendon. I'm not gonna let you hide behind me."

"Fuck you," he says. "I don't want this to be about me."

He's talking about the album. But what he really means is that he doesn't want me to feel like we have to use his songs.

"It is though." I stand and turn my back to him. I feel like I'm kind of exploding, but in a melting kind of way, because how could he not see? "When you walked out the door, it wasn't ever a choice for me to follow you. There was no decision for me to make. I just knew. This is what it is." I turn to face him and I'm surprised that he's still there, waiting for me to talk. Normally, about this time, a slamming door would have been cued. "Fuck them for saying no. You created-- _you created it all_." I repeat because he looks as if he was going to interrupt, instead he bites his lip and turns his head away, breaking our eye contact.

I'm not sure if I should go any further, this is the furthest that we've discussed this since the split. "Brendon is an amazing singer, he's amazing at everything. He's so unbelievably amazing that he was able to sing words not of his own and make people believe him. I'm no Brendon and I don't want to be. I don't want to be Brendon because right now I've got you, and we've got this."

The room goes deathly silent. A minute passes. Two minutes pass.

"You want to jump and dance but you sat on your hands and lost your only chance," Ryan breathes out and looks at me.

"Are you repeating Shins lyrics to me?"

Ryan smiles, but it's gone so quickly that I think I imagined it. He clears his throat. "You hummed the song that morning, you know, before we arrived to practice. It was all I was thinking about when we were all trying to decide what direction we were going to take. And the song isn't even related to anything that we were doing. Or maybe it was because all I wanted to do was just leave, you know? I didn't want to lose my chance."

He stands up and surprises me again when he inches closer to me and grabs my hand. 

It's awkward, but I don't let go.

ccc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The Shins lyrics was an actual [tweet](http://twitter.com/iamjonwalker/status/2443126203) from jon. 2) i might delete that part of the story. i feel horrible, i think if i continue with the way the fic is going, brendon will become a meanie and i don't think that's fair. but then again, this is fiction. w/e. this is all crap anyway. my head hurts.


	4. more than sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV: Ryan

ccc

This is sex. I don't think I've experienced this kind of sex before. Not just sex. Not making love, not yet anyway. Or maybe. What ever this is, it's _more._

More sliding skin. More heated touches. I hardly sweat, but this slick wetness between us is radiating off me as much as it is radiating off Jon. There's something different in how he's moving. More careful. More watchful. Just _more._

Jon wraps his hand around my wrist. He runs his hand up my arm and over my shoulder and down to my chest. Traveling fingers that rake across my skin like he owns it. His hand grips my hip, pulling me impossibly closer, leaving marks that I hope will never fade.

He's stretching me, and it hurts, but it feels so good. So good that he's inside. Burning and pooling wet heat inside of me, leaving me to shiver and shake. I'm not crying. I don't cry no matter how much it hurts, or maybe this is just me remembering pain. 

Jon kisses my cheek and I see him, blurringly, lick his lips. He's looking at me as I look at him and I hear him say, "Okay?"

"Don't stop," I think I tell him or it could just be my imagination again. He doesn't stop so I think he heard me whatever the case.

I usually like to be on top, but this, now, with Jon, I prefer this. I prefer him. Opening. Thrusting. Taking over like no one ever has, or ever could.

"So tight," Jon says, again and again he tells me this. "So good," he breathes in my ear.

I feel myself clenching around him, around his hard length. My arms and legs wrapped around his body, not ever wanting to let go, but knowing that eventually we'll have to pull apart. But I'm pretending. I'm pretending this will last. I'm good at pretending.

Jon manages to keep on going. To keep on thrusting. To keep on moving, even though I watched and felt him come inside of me. He's good at pretending too.

I think I think too much. And when I'm too exhausted to do anything, I think that this could work.

"I think so too," Jon replies, kissing my forehead before he pulls out.

Yeah, this is more than sex.

ccc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if Ryan is ooc or whatever, but he can act however he wants to act in my head, okay?


	5. sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV: Jwalk

ccc

The whole getting ready for tour thing was all a blur. Pretty much we packed, we loaded up the van, and we left. A day and a half into the trip, or what I call 'our vacation,' we slowly realize what we forgot to bring.

I forgot my toothbrush. Ryan shrugged and pulled out an extra. Of course, I took it. 

I realize later, when I was brushing my teeth that Ryan always had a habit about bringing an extra because Brendon always forgot his. I threw away the brush that would have been Brendon's. I pick a new one up when we stop for gas. Ryan notices, but doesn't comment.

Another day passes and we switch drivers. It's my turn to drive and Ryan calls shotgun. In my head I automatically think of 'wedding.' Ryan smirks as he settles into his seat. He probably thought the same thing.

We drive for hours. We don't say much after we get tired of playing car games. The silence between us is more comfortable than anything else. Sometimes, Ryan would randomly laugh and point out a bird or something that is equally unfunny. I laugh at the thought.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "You know, I hate when people do that."

"I know."

Ryan sighs. A minute passes and he clears his throat. He starts to talk about nothing. I listen as if my life depends on it. We end up singing back and forth a song that is not a song. 

_"There's this stupid bird..."_

_"Flying alone in the desert..."_

_"Lost his way,"_ I join in.

 _"Or on his way to find... his way."_ Ryan finishes and smiles.

I smile back.

Minutes pass by, Ryan looks back behind us. The others have long since passed out, sometime before the car games became more boring than doing nothing at all.

Ryan shifts in his seat, and after a beat he leans over his arm rest. "I feel so horny right now," Ryan whispers in my ear.

And this heat surges in me, in my chest, in my groin, in my fingers. My reaction is to slam on the brakes and pull over to the side of the road. In a safe way, of course. 

"Are we there yet?" Andy asks, groggily.

"What's going on?" Nick mumbles.

"It's either still night or I've gone blind," Nick calls out.

"It's still night," Andy and Nick say in unison.

"Just checking. Have we stopped?"

"Yeah," I reply. "What do you guys think about a motel night?"

"It's not a show night, though," someone from the back says. I'm not sure who because Ryan's laugh distracts me.

"Well, we're not due for another two days, and we should be able to get there in time even if we stop over." The heat is in my ears now as I hear myself babbling. Ryan is still laughing, and nobody asks him what's so funny.

I start the engine again and pull back onto the road.

"Who wants to play a game?" Nick asks. And Ryan starts laughing again.

ccc

We finished our forth show, and we skip hotel night in favor of getting to our next destination a day earlier. The highlight of the trip is when we stop over at a gas station at three 'o clock in the morning.

"Check out the vixen!" Ryan exclaims, a bit too loudly. I glance at the man behind the register, he glares at me, looking suspicious, or looking at me suspiciously. 

"How do you know he's not a fox?"

"Because _she's_ a vixen." Ryan rolls his eyes. He reaches for the animal in the barrel of stuffed toys. "I'm getting her."

"If you get her, you'll be so ridiculed." I grin when Ryan pauses mid-step, the stuffed toy trapped inbetween his arm and chest as he pats his pants for his wallet. "Imagine the rest of the tour with stuffed animal jokes. Every. Single. Day."

"I'd say she's worth it." Ryan smiles, but the smile fades as he looks through his wallet. "Ah, fuck, well, looks like I don't have the cash for her worth."

Ryan throws the fox/vixen back into the barrel and grabs some cheddar cheese. 

"Hey," Ryan calls out when he's paying for his food.

"Yeah?"

"You coming?" Ryan smirks when I look up.

"In a minute." I smile back. "You go ahead, I gotta use the boys room."

ccc

And so, I bought the damned thing.

$19.99 for a fucking stuffed animal. I'd say it was a rip-off, Ryan would say it's a steal. I am oddly giddy when I put the stuffed animal atop his pillow in the back seat.

And when he crawls in when we're about to leave and spots the toy, he doesn't say anything at first. He goes out of the van and walks to me. Andy, Nick and Nick all watch as Ryan pulls me into his arms and hugs me.

"Thank you," he whispers in my ear. Yeah, I think the stuffed animal was worth my money--hell, I would have given all my money for this. I hug him back, and when we pull apart I still hear the others whistle and get out their woo hoo's and yeah baby's and everything in between.

Ryan smirks and turns to the others by the van. "Look at what Jon got me. Meet Jon Junior." Ryan smiles as he holds up the stuffed toy.

"Hey, I thought you said she was a she."

Ryan puts an arm around my shoulder as we walk back to the van. "She is." Ryan smiles as he settles in. 

As I get into my own seat beside Ryan, I hear Nick call out from the front, "If I give you a hug Jon, will you buy me a stuffed chicken?"

Andy laughs.

I roll my eyes, and realize that I'm the one that will be ridiculed. Every. Single. Day. I turn to look at Ryan, who is already settled in to sleep, the stuffed vixen in his arms. I can't help but think that it was still worth it. 

But why did he have to name her Jon Junior?

ccc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine my surprise when after posting this chapter at eljay, this tweet happens:  
> 
> 
> Please note:  
> ♥ they are writing a song (they sing a song in my fic!)  
> ♥ it's about birds (so what if my song is about one bird, totally not the point.)  
> ♥ they are in the front seat together   
> ♥ given the pic, they are travelling at night. okay, so, it's not really night, night, but it will be ;)
> 
> lol okay, so i'm excited over nothing. and this only reveals how obsessed i am, but hey, thought i might share what made me squee.
> 
> okay, bye.  
>  ~~but seriously, my fic is coming true!~~. RyWalk, I know you EXIST!


	6. worth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's POV

ccc

We're at the meat of our tour. You know, past the first show jitters and past the whole getting into the groove of things. Now, we're in the groove. We're in the meat of it. 

Everything is going smooth. Going right. And getting to the point where we're all going a little mad. But it's the good kind of mad. The kind where we're comfortable with the madness and it becomes our peace. You know?

We're in another motel. One of our treats to ourselves. Jon and I share a room as always, but this time we decide to change things a bit. We didn't go out with the others to explore the town, rather, we decide to stay in to do nothing. Completely nothing.

Picture this: Arriving to the smallest town you can imagine after a twenty-hour drive, singing in said town and reliving the best night ever, being told by several women that you made their dreams come true and being proposed to by several others, imagine leaving this place and you're so high on adrenaline, and you come back to a room that is not much bigger than the van you've come to call home. What do you do?

"I'm so fucking tired," I mutter.

"Don't lie." Jon smiles at me over his shoulder as he opens the door to our room. "You're fucking glowing with energy."

"That's sweat." I roll my eyes. "I get first shower."

"Fuck that, you had first shower last time." Jon rushes in as soon as he gets the door open.

As soon as I pass through, he closes the door behind me. But before I can get any further into the room, he grabs my wrist and pulls me back. I stumble against him and he traps me against the door. To say the least, I can't move. His hand still encircles my wrist and has it pinned above my head. His other hand is splayed out across my chest. One of his legs is aligned in between mine and I could feel his arousal against the inside of my thigh and he leans into me. The clothes separating us becomes a delicious layer of friction as Jon moves in fractions, but it also serves as a damnable wall as all I want is to feel his skin against mine. 

I figure he's gonna kiss me. But he doesn't. He licks his lips and moves impossibly closer. His eyes are locked onto mine and there is no looking away. I think that this is a prelude to the best fuck of best fucks. As I feel Jon take a breath into his lungs to speak, my muscles twitch in anticipation.

"Let me bathe you?" Jon finally whispers.

"Fuck yes--wait. What?"

"You heard me."

"How 'bout I let you fuck me?"

"Tonight, let's not."

At this point I'm not sure what he's getting at so I try to get away. I'm strong, but his leg moves in and up and my bits enter dangerous territory. "What the fuck, Jon?"

Jon smirks, and I kind of want to punch him.

"What kind of drugs are you on?" I ask, and it's a literal question.

"None what so ever. What drugs are you on?"

"I'm not on anything," I say, and I think it pertinent to know that I answered honestly.

"Good," he says and he kisses me. And I really didn't want to kiss back, but I did.

He pulls away and I find myself following him. He enters the bathroom and turns to face me. To be honest, I'm not thinking as he peels off my clothes. He places kisses against my skin as he unbuttons my shirt. One of his hands grips the side of my hip as he lowers the zipper to my pants. This is all nothing new. We've done this hundreds of times in a hundred different ways.

I try to pull Jon up once he's got me undressed so I could do the same to him, but he shakes his head. And then I remember his request and for some reason I tense up. I think it's stupid. I think I shouldn't feel this way when I trust Jon in every sense of the word, but the idea scares me. "Why do you want to do this?"

"Because we haven't done this before, and I want to," Jon says, nearly whispering. He finds my hand again and for some reason I think of how his hand feels around mine. How our hands don't quite fit. It's perfect.

I end up stepping into the tub, feeling ugly and awkward as Jon looks at me while he turns on the water. He doesn't say anything and he doesn't touch me and I kind of want to scream.

"You know, I don't think I've told you how beautiful you are."

I look away at this.

His hand moves to my chin, to tilt my face towards him. "No, look at me."

"This is stupid, Jon."

"But why?" Jon says gently, but clearly surprised.

"Because it is. I mean, fuck, I'm sitting naked in a bathtub filled with water and you're looking at me."

"Would you rather it not be water?" Jon raises his eyebrows.

"You know what I mean," I say sarcastically, but I could feel the tug of a smile.

"I know what you mean, but just... just relax, okay? Please?" Jon says, and I find myself lost in his eyes. I nod, and he breaks eye contact for a second as he grabs the free soap off the counter.

I close my eyes as soon as he makes contact. He starts with my left hand. He soaps and washes each finger, spending time and care as he travels across my skin. His hands slippery with soap, as he rubs in slow circles. 

He doesn't say anything, but I could feel his eyes on me and as he moves slowly up my arm I feel that he's said too much. 

I start to relax. I feel my bones, my muscles and my skin begin to hum with pleasure. But the feeling is gone too soon as I open my eyes in surprise when he started to wash my underarms, because really? Really? And I catch him smirking, I'm sure he's enjoying my discomfort. I tense up and turn the other way again, I want to pull away, but something in me wants him to not ever stop. "I'm ticklish, you know?"

Jon doesn't answer me. Instead, he chuckles. "Look at me," he says gently. He moves up onto his knees at the side of the tub and reaches for the back of my neck. The slow, rubbing circles continue over my shoulders to my clavicles and down to my chest. 

It's quiet, too quiet, but I can't bring myself to break this moment between us. It's terrifying as he looks at me; he's not smiling, not even smirking, but his eyes are telling me something that I'm not sure I'm ready to hear.

His hands are making its way down lower, he pauses at the side of my stomach as he uses his other hand to take hold of my other wrist. He moves to take my hand and I interlace my fingers with his.

"This isn't about sex," I say.

"No," Jon replies, but I didn't need to hear his answer to know what he was thinking.

"I'm going to get all pruney."

Jon makes a face. "I didn't get to the lower half though." Jon points out.

"You can do it next time," I say as I stand. 

"Next time." Jon repeats and makes a move to pull the stopper from the tub.

The water drains.

"You gonna shower?"

We're both standing now and my hand finds its way to the nape of his neck. "Come join me?" I find myself asking and I don't really know if I'm referring to the shower or something else entirely, if that makes any sense at all.

My hands find the hem of his shirt before I even realize what I'm doing. Jon holds his hands up as I pull it off from him. His pants go down and I recall my earlier thought of literally wanting nothing separating us. The thought brings up another thought, but it's too complicated to put into words. 

"You're shivering," Jon whispers.

I want to tell him it's not because I'm cold. But I don't tell him. Not yet.

I tug on Jon's hands, and he steps into the tub. He pulls the shower curtain and I turn on the hot water. Mechanical things.

Jon's hands reach for me and I find myself reaching for him. "I'm so fucking tired," I confess.

"I know," Jon says.

"You're out of your mind for being here, you know?"

"I know, but I don't care."

ccc


End file.
